The Music
by SPNWinchesters
Summary: Dean smirked, turning the radio up. "Remember Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole." Sibling fluff


**Just a little oneshot Winchester fluff that popped into my head c:**

Dean Winchester glanced over at his brother Sam in the passenger seat of his beloved 1967 Chevy Impala. Sam hadn't spoken a word since the two siblings had split town. He knew that the younger man was still in pain from the well-placed hit to his abdomen that the vengeful spirit had managed to get in before he was roasted, but Dean could also tell that wasn't what was bothering his younger brother. Dean had taken care of that kid for his entire life, he knew the ins and outs of Sammy, knew that when he got that pouty, brooding look on his face that it was best to just leave him alone and avoid both outcomes that would surface from prodding the kid. He'd either be roped into a chick-flick moment, or he'd have to endure a bitch fest from Sam about stuff he'd rather not think about. And yet, something seemed off in Sam. This wasn't one of his usual 'pout-until-I'm-off-PMS' lapses. This was serious, Dean could tell from the way he cast his eyes towards the floor of the Impala, the way his eyebrows were pulled together deeply, partly from physical pain, but partly from mental exhaustion and over-thinking something. It was the small things that clued him in to Sam's inner turmoil.

And yet, Dean couldn't find the words to express what he was feeling, so the two brothers sat in silence until Sam decided he would stow away whatever gory detail he was thinking about, or he'd start talking until it was all out. Dean was prepared for both. He knew this could go either way. Sam, unlike Dean, knew how to express his feelings and could find the words for it, but he could also bottle everything up, push everything down until it all came out in one bad explosion that left him in pieces that Dean always ended up cleaning up. A part of him wished Sam would just spill it now. But the car remained silent until Dean couldn't handle it any more. He took a deep breath, not looking at his younger brother.

"You can't keep doing this, Sam. You can't keep everything locked away." He couldn't express what he was really trying to say, but Sam heard him anyway. _Talk to me. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you._

"It's just..." Sam trailed off, collecting his thoughts. Dean didn't push him, happy that the brooding man was finally opening up to his older brother. "Dean, what's going to happen next? We've been through hell, literally, and...I don't know how much longer I can stand to do this." Sam cast his eyes out side the window in mopey dramatics. It took Dean every ounce of self control to not snort and call Sam a girl's name. This was what he had wanted, so he would have to deal with Sam's over-dramatic attitude.

"You're overwhelmed. I get that man, but we can't just give up. We've got a job to do, Sam." Dean replied, not sure if that's really what Sam needed to hear right now. It was all he had, it was the best he could do.

"But why? I mean, we stopped the apocalypse right? Why do we have to do anything anymore? I'm tired of taking orders from people, man. I'm tired of sleeping in sleazy motels every night and scamming credit card companies, hustling people for money, and eating nothing but greasy diner food." Dean rolled his eyes. He'd been over this with Sam before, but this time, he could tell Sam was deadly serious. He really was tired of the life. With nothing left to say, Sam only let out a melodramatic sigh. "Dean, I'm scared." Dean had been prepared for everything. He'd been ready for a fight, for Sam's doe eyes to stare over at him and beg him to stay in a decent hotel for just one night, but this was the one thing he hadn't been ready for. He stammered for a second, startled by the outright admission from his normally secretive little brother.

Without thinking, Dean pulled his car smoothly over to the side of the road and shut off the engine. He turned to look at Sam, who was staring at him with wide eyes that reminded him of when Sam was seven and had fallen out of that tree. Dean automatically fell into big brother mode. He didn't care that Sam was almost twenty four, or that he was a gigantic Sasquatch with mental problems. Sam was his little brother, and he was going to treat him like one dammit.

Dean slid over on the bench seat, wrapping his arms around Sam like he used to when they were younger, with one hand on the back of his head, pressing his face into Dean's rough leather jacket, the other hand resting on his lower back, stroking small circular patterns along Sam's spine. That had always calmed him down.

Sam didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around Dean, pushing himself closer. He knew he would receive endless teasing about this from Dean, but at the moment all he needed was his older brother. And, as always, he was there, ready to pick up the pieces of Sam and put him back together.

"I know you're scared, Sammy. So am I." Dean admitted, feeling tears sting his eyes as Sam let out a hiccuped sob. "I don't know what's going to happen next. I can't tell you that, but what I can tell you is that no matter what, I will always be here. Our lives change a lot, Sammy, but the one thing we've got that's constant and always there is each other." Sam nodded, understanding what Dean was trying to say. "So we hold onto that, man. And we make it through, just like we always have."

It didn't take long for Sam to pull himself together again. Pretty soon they were back on the road, silent in the car again. It was a comfortable silence, but Dean couldn't stand any type of silence. He reached for his radio controls, flipping on the cassette tape that was still in his car from a few days ago. Sam groaned and reached out to change the horrible grating sound that came from the speakers, only to have his hand slapped away. Dean smirked turning the radio up and singing along loudly. Sam couldn't help but crack a smile as his older brother looked over at him.

"Remember, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole."


End file.
